Olive
by Thorn In Your Side
Summary: How bad can a first date get? Cross/Road.


**Olive**

**A/N: :D I'm, like, the first person to post a story with this pairing? Holy crap, so this is what it feels like to be the first in a field.**

**I hope I find others who like CrossRoadsShipping too, though. D:. **

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

"Hey, Road," Tyki said, "You wanna date this Saturday night?"

"Tyki, I'm not going to go out with you, you retard."

Her uncle blew smoke out of his nose in irritation. "Don't be stupid, not with _**me. **_With this guy Allen knows."

"Uh-huh," she said, peering out the window of the Noahs' mansion, "What the hell is Skin doing?"

Tyki came over to squint over her shoulder, sliding on his glasses as he did.

"Tyki, what the hell do you wear those glasses for? You have perfect vision. We _**all **_do."

"They make me feel sexy," he murmured, "Well, sexier. Is Skin trying to tie a knot with Jas?"

"Looks like it."

The Portuguese man took a long drag on his cigarette to burn the image out of his mind, and turned to his niece. "So what do you say?" he asked, "Allen's uncle and you, Saturday night?"

"Allen's _**uncle?**_ That's who you're setting me up with? I'm eighteen!"

"That means," the man nodded, "That you and him are adults fully capable of deciding whom to date for yourselves. I'm just helping you along. You always liked older men."

"_**Older**_ men, not old men. Just because you're dating someone way out of your age group doesn't mean I want to do the same thing."

Tyki waved his cigarette around, flicking the ashy tip, decided it had outlived its usefulness as a prop and put out in the ashtray. "Listen," he said, "Here's the deal. This Saturday night, I intend to make Allen a fantastic dinner and then spend the night making fantastic love. Do you hear me? The _**whole **_night. Skin's heading out with Jas and Debi tonight for a weekend trip to Lulu's, and I've got the Earl and the others covered too. The whole mansion will be empty, except for you. Now just do me a favor and get the hell out with this Cross guy so I know he won't be lurking outside the window making sure I don't touch his brat."

Road tapped her chin thoughtfully.

"Right, and I wanna do this because?"

"I'll buy you a month's supply of lollipops."

"I'm not fourteen anymore, Tyki."

"You don't want the lollipops?"

"What, are you kidding? You've got a deal, Uncle."

0000000

"C'mon, Uncle, just _**go **_for it," Allen Walker whined at his guardian. The redheaded man shook his redheaded hair in a manner that indicated the setting in of stereotypical redheaded temper.

"I said _**no, **_brat, I'm not going to go out with your boyfriend's niece."

"Why the bloody hell not!?"

"Because a) she's younger than _**you, **_and you're my godson or whatever the fuck you are, and b) I don't trust you alone with that Noah boy. You're going to have sex and get pregnant the second I turn my back on you, aren't you?"

Allen stamped his foot and pouted. "That's the stupidest thing I've heard all week, and I've been hanging around _**Lavi. **_And how the blue blazes am I supposed to get _**pregnant.**_ I'm a male, Uncle!"

"Right, I forget sometimes."

"Uncle!"

"What, dammit?" Cross peeked over the top of a sake bottle at his frustrated charge. "What do you _**want **_from me," he muttered, more to the cosmos at general than to Allen.

"I want you to get your big nose out of my life for one night so Tyki and I can—can have a fun time! And if you don't do it, I will _**burn **_your liquor."

Cross raised his eyebrows. "Right, like you've got the guts to do that."

"Try me!"

Cross didn't try him.

0000000000000000

"Should I get her flowers?" he mused as he surveyed himself in the full length mirror, "Or will a rattle do?"

He laughed aloud at that, and looked around the empty room in annoyance. The empty room glared back at him defiantly, especially the big bed that he occupied all by his lonesome. Allen had implemented a no-whores rule the day he moved in, and Cross Marian just didn't have the _**time **_to chat up a woman before taking her to bed.

It'd be nice to have a body to wrap himself around again—

"Whoa," he told himself sternly, "No. This kid's just that—a kid. Don't lay a hand on her. I mean, she'll probably throw herself at your feet and beg you to take her virginity, but you can't touch her. Allen would kill you, and then himself."

He looked at his reflection, handsome in an unkempt way, clad in a dark three piece suit.

"Well," he relented, "Maybe just a kiss. It's hardly her fault I'm so good looking."

0000000000000000

Road wasn't one for make up.

With a face this pretty, who needed it?

But for some reason, tonight, she snuck into the room Lulu used when she came over, and picked up a small stick of lip gloss.

_Beauty Rush! _it screamed in creamy pink, _Get that perfect pout now, with kissable lips!_

Road narrowed her eyes and threw it aside.

Like hell she was going to kiss Cross Marian. She'd never even met the man. Like hell she was going to kiss on the first date.

Like hell there was going to be anything _**but **_a first date.

She tugged at her skirt nonetheless so that it showed a little more belly and a little less leg. Her legs were _**sticks, **_but her stomach was lean and tan and altogether something to be displayed more. She wore a short halter neck top, black, and her black skirt had a white lace trim. Road ruffled through a few more of Lulu's possessions, looking for accessories. She found a mother of pearl locket, but knew better than to try it on. The clunky white bracelet, however, was a safe bet. It wasn't a gift, Lulu had bought it at some second rate fair because the vendor was cute. Road thought of taking earrings from her, too, but figured that the woman would be able to hone in if more than one thing was removed from her room at a time.

Besides, Jas and David had better taste in earrings than Lulu. She found a white pair of skull studs and put them on, liking the way her short, dark hair half-hid them. The first time Cross would notice them would be when she pushed her hair behind her ears.

Not that she cared, of course. But it was nice to be able to dress up.

She denied herself the passing whim of adding a few more bracelets to her arm—over accessorizing was a big temptation for her—and wandered back into her room to pick out shoes.

Done with that, she found her mirror and smirked at herself.

Gotta hand it to a Noah to look good.

0000000000000

The idiot at her door was holding a small box of candied dates.

What kind of person _**did **_that? I mean, candied _**dates**_? Hello, someone call the dairy farm, there was a flood of cheese on Road's doorstep.

"Thanks," she said with a strained smile. Cross shrugged his shoulders and stepped away to let her come out. Tyki grabbed Allen and dragged him in, slamming the door in their face. The teenager and the redhead stared until the white haired boy appeared in the window.

"Have fun, you two!" he yelled before his boyfriend pulled him away.

"He's going to get raped," Cross said flatly, "I knew it. I'm pressing charges."

Road rolled her eyes. "I'm pretty sure its mutual, and what're you _**wearing.**_" She put what she clearly considered a politely disdainful emphasis on the last word, but Cross felt it reeking of teenage scorn.

"Clothes," he retorted, "As in order with the dress code of the Lotus. What are _**you **_wearing?"

Road heard her father and narrowed her eyes. "Clothes, too," she said, "And the _**Lotus**_? You're taking me to the Lotus? That's, like, a geezers' club. I thought we'd hit the new pub and then see what's going on at the frats."

Cross raised his eyebrow so far he pulled a muscle and shot a hand to his eye. "Ow," he said when he'd finished doing whatever a hand does to set a muscle straight.

Road crossed her arms, candied dates in hand. "We've got a problem," she declared.

"You think, little girl?"

"Okay, you know what, we're on a _**date, **_so you need to not call me that."

Cross glared at her and stormed away. She followed him because now that Tyki had locked them out, he wasn't letting them back in until he was good and ready. The older man burst through the gates and yanked his car door open. Road slipped past him, into the driver's seat. He stared in disbelief as she fingered the steering wheel and looked up at him expectantly.

"You're kidding me," he said.

"Gimme the keys," she said, "And we'll talk about a compromise on location."

000000000000

They decided on a restaurant that played her kind of music and served his kind of food.

"Okay," Road said, taking a stick of garlic bread daringly because she was so certain that she wasn't going to get kissed tonight, "Let's—what do you call it? Talk. Get to know each other. Who knows, maybe under your sad existence near the brink of death, you remember the days when you were young."

"Hey," Cross said, "At least I'm potty trained."

Road paused, breadstick halfway in her mouth. "That's a pretty neat comeback," she said, "Too bad you'll lose the memory to Alzheimer's."

"I'll take the chicken risotto," Cross told the waiter, "And bring me a bottle of red wine. The strongest stuff you've got."

The waiter paused, and looked at Road.

"Oh, she won't be drinking," the redhead smiled pleasantly, "My date has to drive me home tonight, the sober young thing."

Road glared at him.

"You are a petty, petty man."

"Does the little girl need a tissue because the big bad wolf is being mean?"

"You are just _**this small,**_" she informed him, holding her thumb and her index about an inch away from each other.

"I love you too, darling."

0000000000

Dinner done, they took a walk. The moonlight dazzled itself off the lake that the restaurant bordered, with a narrow, winding path that with plenty of nooks perfect for couples to stop and make out at. There were ever a few dainty bridges, for the love of god, with no purpose but to serve as a romantic setting for first kisses.

And thus did Road and Cross find the first thing they had in common: a creeping loathing of all things mushy gushy.

"I wouldn't be surprised to see the legend _love lies sleeping _somewhere around here," he muttered. She muffled a giggle. "At least they don't have a moonlight boat ride," she said.

"No, they do," he pointed out. Road shook her head disbelievingly. "That is just so sad."

"Not as sad as the fact that people actually _**want **_to be kissed here," Cross declared.

"Yeah-huh," Road agreed, "So, say you're going out with a girl that you actually have a snowball's chance in hell with," she said, "How'd you kiss her?"

Cross walked to the edge of water and beckoned to her. She padded over to him, chartreuse grass breaking under her feet. He looked out over the lake and let his eyes slide back over to her, over the yoke of her dark shoulders.

"Well?" Road said, unimpressed.

Cross smirked. "I think," he said, "That the finer points the moves I pull on women are slightly too high-end for your young mind to comprehend."

She backed away from him, eyes glinting with amusement. "You jerk," she said.

"That's me," he laughed, "Let's get back to the car. You're driving."

000000000000

She slid behind the wheel again and flexed her fingers.

"Where to?"

"Home," Cross groaned, "I've had enough fun for one night."

"I don't think Tyki and Allen would take kindly to me showing up any time tonight."

"Where can I drop you off, then?"

"Your place, duh."

Cross stared at her.

"Relax," she said, revving the engine, "I won't be anywhere near your bedroom. Tell me, how tastefully is Allen's room decorated?"

000000000000

The car broke down just far away enough from Cross's place to make walking there a nightmare.

"You _**wrecked **_my car. If I wasn't already pressing charges against your uncle for raping the boy, I'd press charges against you too."

"Bureaucratic son of a—" Road let the rest of the swear die away as she saved her breath for the uphill walk. Her flats were scuffed and the soles were burning up her feet; she'd never sacrifice comfort on the altar of fashion again.

"Do you even know what that word means?" Cross asked haughtily, "Stop trying to show off your vocabulary for me."

"I'm not trying to show off my vocabulary for you."

"Stop faking that limp, too. I'm not going to pick you up or whatever it is you're hoping I'll do."

Road stopped, alright. She stopped in the middle of the road and threw a fist at the older man's nose. It connected with the satisfying _crack _of a fracture.

He held a hand up the swelling appendage, amazement glowing in his eyes. "You broke my nose!" he said, pulling out a handkerchief—he carried a _**handkerchief**_—to dab at the blood.

"You kept accusing me of weird crap!"

"So you break my _**nose**_?"

"What did you want me to break?"

Cross shook his head. "Let's…just…get home. And," he added, "Take off your shoes, if they hurt that much. The road's okay."

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "You're not mad about the nose?"

"Oh, I'm pretty pissed. Why?"

"You're not doing anything to me."

"An eye for an eye only leaves the world blind."

0000000000

"This is home," he said when the finally made it there, "It's a lot of beauty to take in at once, I know, but just try to—"

"Tacky," Road said, passing through the ornate front room. "Tacky," she condemned the gourmet kitchen, "Tacky," she said of the small bathroom on the first floor, "And way tacky," she crinkled her nose at Cross's room.

The redhead snorted. "You wouldn't know taste if it bit you in your ass, you know that?"

"Whatever," the teenager said, "Is this Allen's room? …Passable."

"Why do you want to sleep in _**his **_room when there are three guest—"

"His room smells like life as opposed to the rest of this place, which smells like old lady."

"…You know what? Screw you," Cross said, slamming the door to his own room. The full length mirror greeted him with his own scowling face, and the big bed said _aw, alone again?_

"Shut up," he sulked at it, and rolled out a futon to sleep on the floor.

0000000000

The next morning, she was gone.

"Rude," he muttered to himself as he poured his morning Irish coffee, "What else do you expect from a brat? All her dates are probably dinner and a fuck. Kids these days. The art of romance is _**lost **_to them, I swear."

"Why don't you teach us?" she said. He raised his eyebrows at her.

"And here I was thinking you'd left, and I could begin to write off last night as a bad dream."

"Feel free to write away," Road said, tossing him a plastic coupon, "I called a mechanic to pick up your car. It's close by, and he's supposed to be good. You can pick it up tonight."

He stared at the coupon until she'd left the house, and then he said, "Thanks."

000000000000

"Had fun, Uncle?"

"She was a nightmare, brat. Do you want me to call my lawyer now, or after lunch?" Cross scrutinized Allen for signs of torture, "Theodore's the best in the business; we'll sue the Noahs' fancy mansion right away from him."

"First off, it's not his mansion, it's the Earl's, and second off all, I'm not calling the lawyer because whatever may or may not have happened last night was entirely initiated by me—_**if **_anything happened. And thirdly, what do you mean she was a nightmare? Road's such a fun girl! If I was straight, I'd be dating her instead of Tyki!"

Cross scoffed. "And I'd still be forced to interact with their family. Oh, spare me your alternate reality stories, they give me the creeps."

Allen shook his head in despair. "Uncle, I cannot believe you are so lacking in social skills you can't even get along with Road Camelot. That's just pathetic."

Cross said nothing until the boy climbed upstairs, and then reached for the phone.

He had a date to follow up on.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x**

**Mm-kay, so I've got an excuse for any OOC ness, and that is the fact that whatever I know of their personalities comes from Novelist Pup's fics. Everything else is my fault and my credit, so feel free to concrit or praise or whatever. **


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